


Crawling Down the Avenue

by hesterbyrde



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Spoilers, Spoilers for Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contains spoilers for Season 2 but nothing past that.</p>
<p>After their rather dramatic kiss in the control room, Don and Sloan decide to talk (and do a good deal more than talk) about their future together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawling Down the Avenue

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks go to KaminaDuck, LawlessDragon, and ArcaneIrony for proofing this fic. Thanks for reading my porn, guys... I feel loved.
> 
> The title is taken from "Feel My Love" as sung by Adele. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Sloan got to her office after wrapping up the election coverage, Don was waiting for her. He was browsing the contents of her book shelves as if their contents were the most interesting thing in the world. Never mind that it was too dark to read, or that she was fairly certain the titles of the books would be little more than word salad to Don with his meager bachelor's degree in journalism. 

“Hey.” she said, lamely as she passed the doorway. She slowed, only just stepping inside.

Don turned and in the darkness she could detect the faintest wisp of a smile. “Hey.” he replied softly, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the bookshelf.

“Good show.” Sloan said, unable to come up with anything to say. The weight of the silence in the room was killing her, especially with all the post-engagement hub-bub still audible from downstairs. Down there it was bright and bubbly and full of noise. In here it was dark and quiet and she was quite possibly staring at the consequences of a huge mistake. Don's expression, while pleasant, was unreadable.

“You too.” Don answered. “Sorry you kept getting cut off.”

“It happens.”

The silence and tension refused to lessen its grip. Finally, Sloan couldn't take it and she vomited out the first thing that came to mind. “I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't- I just, I didn't want to lose my nerve and-”

“Oh no.” Don cut her off, smiling and waving his hand. “You don't get to apologize for that. Like, ever.”

Sloan clamped her mouth shut and color crept in under her freckles. She was thankful for the darkness now. She'd said the wrong thing again. Why did she always say the wrong thing? 

The silence oppressively settled over them again, but Don broke it this time and in thankfully short order. “I left the address to my apartment on your desk. You... you don't have to come by, but I think we should talk. I... we probably should have talked months ago and that's my fault. But lets talk now. Someplace that isn't here.”

Sloan nodded mutely, fidgeting with the corner of the folder she was carrying.

Don peeled himself off the book case with a casual bump of his shoulder. “I'm going to go congratulate Will and Mac again, and then go home and change into something without a collar.” He told her sidling casually by her towards the door. “I'll leave the door unlocked.”

She nodded again, trying and failing to swallow away the dryness in her mouth. She kept her eyes trained at the lights outside her office window.

Don paused next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see he was frowning as he looked down at her. “Hey.” he said softly, his tone making her involuntarily look at him. “You look petrified.”

“Have I screwed this up?” she asked, her voice quaking.

Don sighed and half-smiled. “No.” he said, in the most patient tone. “I just want to talk.”

“Because I just didn't wa- I wanted to- I-” the words spilled out of Sloan's mouth faster than she could put them in an intelligible order.

Don raised a hand and she quieted, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He reached down and squeezed her hand and her fingers closed around his instantly. “I want you to tell me why. And I want to tell you why. But I don't want to do it here.” He told her, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “My apartment. I'll leave the door unlocked.” he repeated, and then he was gone from her office.

***

Sloan agonized over what to wear in a manner that was unlike her. Objectively, she knew that she was being utterly ridiculous, but that didn't mean she could stop herself from over analyzing everything. That did not bode well for this evening.

Should she wear something sharp and sexy? Never mind that he would be in lounge wear. Clothing always helped her feel confident and she should... but if he was in his pj's shouldn't she be too? So it wouldn't look weird or like she had come over there just to seduce him? It was also pretty cold outside. Tennis shoes or heels? Yoga pants or jeans?

Finally, after rifling through her closets for the third time, she just stopped and looked down. She was wearing a loose pair of jeans and a fluffy chocolate brown sweater. No holes, or visible pilling. She reminded herself that this wasn't a job interview, or even a real date. He just wanted to talk, and she believed that. Part of her feared that, if she was being truthful. But if she was going to have a prayer of being able to put herself out there for Don to actually communicate with, she probably should start now.

***

Don wasn't actually a beer drinker. He drank beer when he was out at bars, mostly because a man drinking wine looked either pretentious or... well, mostly it was looking pretentious he was worried about. But wine was his preference. He cracked open a bottle of Merlot that he'd gotten as a birthday present from Elliot. It seemed as good a time as any.

He was finishing his first glass when he realized he hadn't actually bothered to change clothes. He was still in the wrinkled olive button up and khakis he'd worn for the last 16 hours. He shrugged as poured himself a healthy second glass and took a long swallow. He wasn't sure if Sloan would come. He figured it was a 50/50 chance and if pressed, he was sure he would downgrade his odds quickly. He had seen her face in her office. She was having second thoughts, and they may as well have been scrolling across her face like a news crawler. It was fine if she was. Being single wasn't so bad anyway. He was actually getting used to-

His musings were interrupted by the click of the door latch. Don whirled around, nearly spilling his wine, to see Sloan's face poke around the door.

“May I come in?” she asked with a nervous smile.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, failing completely to hide his surprise. “Yeah, come on in. Would you like a glass of wine? I'm having three.” He was already pouring her a glass as he spoke.

She laughed, a soft tentative sound. “Sure. It probably couldn't hurt.” Don passed her the glass as a weighty silence, matching that of Sloan's office earlier in the evening, settled on the apartment. They both took a long drink to help them ignore it.

“So.” Don perched on the back of his sofa, facing Sloan who was sliding herself onto one of his breakfast bar stools. “Do you want to start?”

“I just...” Sloan looked at him brokenly. “I don't... I don't even...” She trailed off after a moment.

“Then let me.” Don said quickly, taking another healthy gulp of his wine. “I bought your book because I wanted you to eventually find it on my shelf. I knew you would. You come into my office and wander around spouting off ideas all the time.”

Sloan nodded and shrugged.

“I wanted to see if you still felt the same as you did before... before that time that we held the conversation we never talked about again.”

“I do.”

“I gathered.”

“And you thought me seeing my book on your shelf in your office would...?” She didn't fill in the rest of the question.

“I thought you might bring it up again.”

“That's... round about.”

“I agree with that assessment.” he admitted.

“You couldn't just ask me?”

Don just snorted humorlessly in reply.

“So, how do you feel?” Sloan asked, feeling a little bolder from his admission.

“How... how I feel is a moving target.” Don answered, honestly. “It's been a moving target for a long time... maybe even before we had that talk, and I just wasn't looking because of Maggie. But when I broke up with Maggie, I started to think about what you said. About me thinking that I was a bad guy. And it dawned on me that you were right.”

“I was?”

“Yes. But you were wrong about something though. No one ever told me. Not directly anyway.”

“So then-” 

“A lot of my friends in college were women. For some reason I had 'Tell me your boyfriend problems.' tattooed somewhere on my body in readable-only-by-women ink. I knew what bad boyfriends did, and I didn't want to be that guy. But...” He dragged his tongue across his lower lip. “But I think I lost something along the way in policing myself, and I'm still not one hundred percent sure what that something is.”

Sloan was silent, not really knowing what to say.

Don took a deep breath and went on. “I bought your book because, in addition to being a great humanitarian-” Sloan snorted, and they both smiled, albeit fleetingly, for the first time. “I knew you'd see it on my shelf eventually. And you'd ask me out. Again, technically.”

“That's... still really convoluted.” Sloan observed.

“I know. I think... I think that's part of what I lost. See, I... I can't actually recall a time where I ever instigated a relationship. Or hell, even a one night stand.”

“You've had one night stands?”

“You haven't?” he arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

“That's not- sorry. Go on?”

“You were right. Back when you came in my office and told me that I was trying to be a good guy by being with Maggie. But I wasn't being nice, or... I was being... I was trying to keep the decision off my hands. Like you said... it's harder to break up once you move in together. And I did really care about Maggie, but I just-”

“Did you invite me over to talk about Maggie?” Sloan said rather more bitingly than she intended. She winced inwardly. Again with saying the wrong thing all the time.

“No. I invited you over to tell you you were right, and to ask you out.” Don responded evenly.

Silence stretched out between them. Sloan's mouth fell open slightly.

“You're asking me out?” She asked, breathy with surprise.

“I'm not doing a good job of it, but yes.” Don answered before taking a long drink of his wine.

“Wow.” Sloan barely breathed the word. 

“You're surprised? I kissed you in the control room in front of God and everyone.”

“Technically, I think I kissed you. And to be honest, I thought you were just being polite.”

“Wow. That gives me way too much credit. I'm a good guy, but I'm not that much of a good guy.”

The silence returned for a moment as Sloan gathered her thoughts. “Promise me something, then.” She said.

“Sure.”

“Promise me that you're actually done with all this passive stuff, if that's truly at the heart of it.” Sloan said. “Clearly it's become habit, so I just... stop yourself sometimes, and ask me for what you want. Because I suck hard at reading people, and if you're going to depend on me to figure it out we are screwed. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stared at each other for a long while. The distance of just a few feet separating them seemed to yawn hungrily.

“Can I start now?” Don asked, swirling the last of his wine around his glass.

“Why couldn't you?”

“You haven't said yes, yet.”

“I haven't?”

“Nope.”

“I must've just thought it really loud.”

“I have many dark and mysterious powers, but mind reading is not one of-”

“Yes.” She blurted, cutting him off.

Don smiled then, the dimple in his cheek puckering. “Now can I ask?”

“Ask away.”

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

Sloan smiled and nodded but didn't move. Without the emotion and adrenalin to carry her to him she felt stuck. Something about it all felt surreal.

Don finished his glass of wine in an open-mouthed gulp before closing the space between them in a single step. He took her face between his hands and kissed her softly. It was totally unlike their kiss in the booth earlier, which had been full of possession and frustration and “Fuck you, you asshole.” This was different. Gentler, and a little bit nervous. Don smoothed his hands down her shoulders to her waist as her arms crawled up his chest to wind around his neck. Sloan had forgotten to breathe for a few seconds, and when she remembered to inhale, she was awash in the smell of wine and peppermint, and the warm scent of his skin.

Don broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Sloan's. “I'm sorry it took me so long.” he murmured.

“Mmm...” Sloan hummed as she toyed with the curls on the nape of his neck. “Don't worry about it. This was worth the wait.”

“I shouldn't have kept you waiting.” Don said guiltily, scratching a hand through his hair and interlocking his fingers with hers when he met them.

“You kept me waiting for the right reason.” she assured him, nuzzling under his chin.

“Speaking of waiting... I...” he paused, huffing out a small laugh at himself. “I don't want you to feel like anything has to happen tonight.”

“Anything like what?” she asked, dragging her free hand to caress his cheek as she hung around his neck. “Shopping for furniture? Buying a dog? God, I hope not.”

“I mean-”

“I know what you mean.” She chided, teasing one finger around the top button of his shirt. “Are you saying that for my sake?”

Don swallowed audibly. “Well, I'm certainly not saying it for mine.” he responded, his voice holding a slightly husky edge.

“Okay then.” Sloan deftly began undoing the buttons of his shirt, pausing between each one to kiss him either on the neck, or the lips, or the cheek. Her fingers barely touched him as she worked, though Don was fairly certain that each time she let her nails brush the skin on his chest it was very much on purpose.

Don resumed kissing her, though he was far less gentle this time. His lips were still soft against hers, but his tongue was far more insistent, licking deftly into her mouth. Occasionally, she caught the barest scrape of his teeth and each time she moaned.

When the buttons were undone, Sloan pushed his shirt off his shoulders and broke the kiss. She looked down, running one hand gently down the plane of his breastbone. She let out a soft huff of a breath as she kissed a trail following her hand. Don had gone still, and she looked back up at him. He looked a little wide eyed.

“What's wrong?” Sloan asked, carding her fingers through his curls.

“Nothing.” he muttered with a slight shake of his head. He crowded himself against her, bowing his head to her shoulder.

She stopped him, hand still resting on his chest. “What's wrong?” She asked again. “Am I going...” she stopped herself before she finished the question, thinking of a better one instead. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” he repeated with an ironic smile. “I'm... I'm getting what I want. Are you?”

“Of course.” Sloan answered, ghosting a kiss over his lips. “If you're getting what you want, why do you look worried?”

“I don't... I don't know.” He admitted after a moment. He leaned his head against hers and sagged a little over her petite frame. “I don't know.”

Sloan chewed her bottom lip for a moment as she thought and teased her fingers along his ribs. She twisted her hips back and forth so that they brushed up against him. She could feel him getting hard, so she kissed him again, deeply this time and said, “Show me where your bedroom is.”

Don took her hand and led her through a door flipping on a dim bedside light as he went. His bedroom was small but nicely appointed with dark wood furniture. The coverlet on the bed was particularly nice, certainly nicer than Sloan was expecting. Maggie must've picked it out. “It's not much.” Don said, lamely.

Sloan snorted as she stalked over to him. She slid her hand up his chest to grip his neck and kissed him hard, rolling her body against his. She sank down on the bed and pulled him with her until he was pooled between her legs. At some point he had slipped both hands under her loose sweater, and he was kissing her like he might devour her from the mouth down. Sloan wrapped herself around him, one hand in his hair, the other scratching gently down his back, and both legs twined around his waist. She moaned aloud when he ground his hardened length against her hip.

He pulled back a fraction, stilling on top of her. “I'm... am I moving too fast?”

Sloan snickered then. “I'm the one that put you here, Don.” She answered, kissing him in a quick, wet rush of lips and tongue. “Tell me what you want. Or better yet, just do it.”

He looked at her then, jaw set and inhaling slowly. They both held their breaths for a moment before he answered. “I want to finger you until you scream my name.”

Sloan swallowed, feeling heat rush into her freckled cheeks. That was more direct than she was expecting. But she did ask. “I would like that.” she replied, trying to keep her voice even.

Don nodded, and for a moment he appeared to be transfixed with her face. A little of that nervousness was seeping away from his eyes. Then, in the next breath, he was pulling her clothes off. First her pants and then her sweater went flying to opposite corners of the room, followed shortly by her bra and panties. Sloan was impressed that he got the latch on her bra on the first try and one handed. When she was naked, she pulled Don back down on top of her for another sloppy kiss. She worked her body like a serpent, enjoying the way her skin felt between the satiny coverlet and the smooth heat of Don's chest. His hands slid up her body and cupped her breasts as she writhed. She arched up, her rosy nipples brushing his chest, making both of them shiver. 

He pulled back from the kiss and rocked back to his knees between her legs. Sloan shimmied up the bed to gain a little height on the pillows as Don began ghosting feather-light touches along her hip bones and the inside of her thighs. She smiled and shuddered, caught somewhere between being teased and being tickled, but soon her shivers turned to little moans as his fingers danced closer and closer to the wet folds of her pussy.

Don watched Sloan's face more than his hands as one finger slid along her entrance, pausing just briefly over her clit before slipping away. Sloan fell back against the pillows with a soft thump and a lazy smile began to blossom on her face. Don repeated the motion, still achingly slow, but a little more insistently this time,. Then, after a few passes, he added a second finger, following in the first's wake. This coaxed a keening moan from Sloan's parted lips. Don stayed up on his knees, watching from his removed perspective as he curled his fingers against Sloan's clit. She was wet, and growing more so with each brush of his fingers, and her body began to twist as her need overwhelmed her composure.

He slid a finger into her, and she gasped sharply. She was so wet that it took almost no pressure. She was so pliable and warm inside that just imagining how she would feel around his cock made Don's head spin. He leaned forward, supporting himself over her with one arm as his other hand worked between her legs. He teased in shallow caresses that grew deeper with each curl of his fingers. “God, you're beautiful.” He whispered roughly. 

Sloan writhed and moaned under him, alternating between bunching the covers in her fists and reaching up to pull at his body as if she might climb him like a tree. She made no effort to mask her thrusting, plowing her hips into his barely moving hand. It was the hottest thing Don had ever seen. He slid a second finger into her, crooking them slightly as he slid out of her, ratcheting up the volume on her moaning. 

“There! Oh Jesus, Don, there!” Sloan encouraged. Both her hands were braced on his shoulders as she drove herself down onto his fingers. “God, Don I'm... I'm getting close.”

“I've got you.” he whispered huskily, as he followed the rhythm of her hips with his fingers.

Sloan's whole body tensed for a moment and the edges of her vision went fuzzy. She let out a sound that began as his name and ended as a long needy groan, and then she went totally boneless under him. That is, save for her hips, which still thrust shallowly against his hand.

As she had wound back down, Don collapsed to the bed beside her. He smiled, bright-eyed and his flushed face. Sloan smiled back at him, a lazy curl of her lips that made her look drugged. She leaned over and kissed him. It would have been a more forceful kiss but she was still drifting through the aftershocks of the orgasm which had left her wonderfully weak and trembling. Her hand clumsily found it's way to the front of his pants so she could palm his erection. Don hissed between his teeth, barely able to rein in a thrust. 

Sloan pulled back and looked at him, still slowly rubbing the heel of her hand against the bulge in his pants. His face had slackened and his pupils were swollen and dark. She tugged at his shoulder, dragging him back on top of her, straddling her this time.

“Hands and knees.” she instructed, as she busied her fingers with his belt buckle. He raised his hips as she unzipped his khakis and pulled his cock free of his boxers. Her right hand began slowly tugging at his shaft, while her left reached in to gently fondle his balls.

A wordless moan escaped Don and his back arched, pushing him into her touch. He thrust hard into her grip twice before he took a shaky breath and stilled. Sloan looked up at his face. He wore a peculiar expression; one of fear and worry overlaid on a wild and barely contained desire. His whole frame shook with the effort of resisting the urge to thrust.

“Relax, Don.” she chided playfully.

“If I relax, I'm going to throw you down and fuck you through the mattress. And I just bought this thing.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I-” his words were cut off by a soft keening sound. Sloan had tightened her grip, and was sliding her thumb through the pre-come along the underside of his shaft.

“What's stopping you?” she asked. Another wordless moan was her answer as she jacked him insistently. He was trembling and half thrusting with his head bowed and mouth hanging open. “Don, look at me.” He took a deep breath and raised his head. His jaw was set tight and his eyes were dark. And under all those obvious signs of arousal and desperation was the tell-tale flush of embarrassment. Sloan was granted a rare moment of understanding then. She smiled at him like he was an amazing sight in the world. “Fuck me, Don.” she whispered. It was like she had fired a starting pistol.

He pulled out of her grip, kicked off his pants and threw himself between her legs. Sloan guided his cock into her as his hands were busy combing through her hair. They both gasped when he slid inside, and the nails of Sloan's free hand bit into his back. Don's body undulated, sinking him deeper into her with each rolling thrust. He gazed at Sloan's face, clearly searching her for an averse reaction. His expression had gone slack, but worry still creased his brow. She assuaged him by grabbing him and kissing him, and wrapping her legs around his waist.

The last shreds of Don's inhibitions fled when he felt her curling around him. He moaned into her mouth as she matched her tongue to his thrusting. Then, he fell away from her lips, dropping his head onto her shoulder as he continued to thrust. He could feel her hands in his hair, the sting where she had clawed his back, and he could hear her breathy moaning, but all of that was distant to the feeling of how hot and wet she was around him.

“God, I've wanted this for so long.” Sloan whispered against his neck as she traced her nails down his back. Don looked up at her, clearly disbelieving, and she smiled up at him. “Really.”

“Why?” He asked roughly, his cock still pistoning relentlessly inside her.

Sloan cradled his sweaty face in her hands and kissed him, just the barest brush of her lips. “Because you're a good guy. And I wanted to try and make you believe me.”

He smiled at her then. It was the true Don Keefer smile that had him squinting and his eyes crinkling at the corners. He didn't say anything in reply. He just kissed her, snaking his tongue past her teeth as he picked up the rhythm of his thrusting again.

He had Sloan moaning his name in no time. She squeezed his hips between her thighs as she arched against him. The afterglow from her first orgasm hadn't quite dissipated and she could feel her next climax building through the fuzzy haze. Don was close too. Sloan could feel his hips losing their rhythm as he thrust harder, his hands gripping and probably bruising her hips. It wouldn't be long for either of them.

Then, her climax was there. There was no crashing wave or building pressure. She didn't even really realize how far she had built, because she wasn't really doing anything other than just enjoying every sensation. It was just happening, like a gust of wind off the ocean, all balmy and warm. And she felt Don's body stiffen as shouted her name and came inside her in a hot rush. And they both just hovered there for a moment, milking the pleasure for all it was worth.

Don dropped down onto his forearms, as he slipped out of her. Sloan flopped out in a graceless spread-eagle under him. She traced the line of his throat with one lazy finger. She wanted to kiss him, but everything felt heavy and clumsy. Don smiled down at her, enjoying watching the aftershocks flit across her face.

After a moment, Don collapsed to the bed beside her. Sloan wanted to turn and face him, but her body seemed totally boneless and unresponsive to her. Both wonderfully weightless and heavy with exhaustion. “Caught you off guard, didn't I?” She asked, sounding drunk.

“Yeah.” Don replied with a lazy smile, as he laced their fingers together on the pillow. “Yeah, you did.”

***

Sleep held Sloan in a warm, lazy darkness for as long as it could. She would occasionally come to, just barely registering that there was light in the room, before rolling to her side and sinking back down into the softly whispering sheets. Finally, she was dragged to the surface of her languid dozing by the smell of coffee. She found was alone in the bed, though judging by the state of the sheets she hadn't been all night. She also judged it to be at least mid-morning, if the bright beams of sunlight streaming in the window were any indication.

She sat up and stretched, feeling the delicious soreness in her body as evidence of a good, sound fucking. She looked around, blinking and squinting at the sleep in her eyes. There were a set of lounge pants and an over-sized ACN t-shirt draped over the foot of the bed. Smiling, she shimmied into the provided pj's and sauntered towards the delicious caffeinated aroma, smoothing her tangled hair as she went.

Sloan hadn't felt self conscious about her state of dress until she saw Don stretched out on the sofa. Nothing about him should have made her feel that way. He was in lounge clothes too, sipping on coffee and reading-

He was reading her book.

He looked up over the page when she walked in and smiled at her. “Morning, babe.” he said warmly.

“Morning.” she mumbled with an embarrassed grin. 

“You make my sleep clothes look good.”

“Oh come off it. You don't have to flirt with me now. You've slept with me.”

“Bullshit. Now, I have to flirt with you even more because you've slept with me, and who knows? You may decide you're bored of me. Might decide to go date Reese. He's handsome and rich and- Hey!”

Sloan had chucked a throw pillow at him. He blocked it with her book.

“Be careful with this!” he scolded playfully. “This is autographed by the world's hottest economist.”

“I'm surprised you're reading it. I thought it was just for show.” Sloan said, sidling around behind him to look over his shoulder.

“Me too. But I thought I'd take a look.” he responded frowning at the page. 

“You learning anything?”

“Just that I didn't realize there were that many words that I didn't know the definition of.” he responded, turning the book this way and that. “But I recognize that they're words and they mean things to people smarter than me. So there's that.” He smiled up at her.

She leaned in and kissed him. “I'll try not to make you feel stupid.”

“Oh, by all means. Please do.” he responded, kissing her again. “Just be sure to un-stupid me occasionally, too.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Coffee?”

“Please.”


End file.
